


Standard Post-Procedures

by SociallyUnacceptableOrb



Category: Hoshi no Kaabii | Kirby: Right Back at Ya!
Genre: 4Kids Dub, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, M/M, POV First Person, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 19:38:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17587088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociallyUnacceptableOrb/pseuds/SociallyUnacceptableOrb
Summary: Meta Knight ruminates on the relationship of his newfound allies.





	Standard Post-Procedures

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked me to write a story about Sword and Blade being outed as gay by Dedede, and Escargoon coming to their defense. My response? A resounding no thank you. Ironically, I think Dedede would have a decent grasp on LGBT issues, just not perfect; he says dumb things in the vein of "WHY CAN'T JACK JUST SURGERIZE HIMSELF" or asking how Mabel's gonna get married if she doesn't want to marry a man.
> 
> Instead, have some gay knights and Meta Knight being oblivious.

Suffice to say, I was well and duly shocked when Sword and Blade told me that they wished to become my squires; they’d tried to rob me beforehand, was it really my rescue that changed their minds that quickly? If I were I less noble, I would have taken this event with pride, but I was more baffled than anything. Even the following day, as I fixed myself up from all the gashes that the monster had inflicted on me, it still boggled my mind that my would-be assailants had turned on a dime. What were to happen if the Wolfwrath returned, and tried to target all three of us now that they’d joined me?

As if the universe itself could hear me, I heard Blade’s shrill yelp from across the way. Not even putting my armor back on, I bolted to the source of the sound and found him… perfectly alive and well, as well as sans armor and shirt. The reason behind his screaming was Sword getting soap into his one massive eye while attempting to wash the filth and cuts from his face.

Sword was a common Sylvanian with powder blue skin and dark dreadlocks, and Blade was a cyclopean Kobold Sylvanian with lime green skin and cream white hair that looked like it had been cut with a cat o' nine tails. It was evident that neither of them had had their armor made explicitly for them; I shuddered to think how Blade’s head even fit into his helmet.

Blade’s language was one I could partly understand, but the angrier words (some of which I could infer were curse words) slipped past my knowledge. Thankfully, Sword spoke Universal Code and gently scolded him, telling him he was only trying to help. Sword continued his washing by going down Blade’s back with the washcloth, his disgruntled patient now ranting about myself. Sword Knight agreed with a sharp chuckle, and even with the lack of my knowledge of the language, I rolled my eyes in annoyance. 

They carried on with small talk until he got to the large cut on the other man’s shoulder blade. Peculiarly, Sword then leaned in close and gently kissed the cut. I didn’t want to come off as a Peeping Tom, so I quickly ducked back behind the rock and resumed tending to my own wounds. The last things I saw and heard were Sword gently resting his face into the crook of Blade’s neck and mumbling apologies for the event; I felt a twinge of sympathy for him as well, knowing intimately what it felt like to let down one’s teammates.

Asides from that one moment of weakness, the two of them shrugged the events of the attack off as if it were an average occurrence. I mentally remained myself that even if they weren’t proper knights yet, they still would have had to have learnt a thing or two.  And judging by the ways that they moved in sync when distracting a significantly less dangerous monster in order to buy myself time to gain rations, I wondered if they’d been inspired by each other. I’d never seen such closeness and coordination with two people before, at least, not on the battlefield.

Sadly, I never was able to properly ask them what the case was; Sword and Blade were practically glued at the hip, finishing each other’s sentences constantly and often ignoring my dictations to wander off by themselves. They still were able to complete what I’d asked of them, but I was beginning to feel like a metaphorical spare tire. It wasn’t until late last night that I was able to actually speak to one of them without the other instantly butting in.

“How long have you two, ah, been partners in crime?” I asked. I had been trying to contact Sir Arthur for the past twenty minutes with no luck, and the duo had been toasting sausages over the open flame before us.

“Hm?” Sword stared at me with an expression I couldn’t quite place. “What do you mean by that, Meta Knight?”

“I mean, when did you first become allies?” I clarified, readjusting myself and getting into a more relaxed posture. “I’d assume it was a long time ago, considering how in sync the two of you are.”

Blade clapped his hands over his nonexistent mouth and made a loud wheezing noise which I could only assume was meant to be a laugh and not him choking on his food. Sword continued to stare at me, his look of confusion slowly morphing into annoyance as he shot a look Blade’s way, less then amused by whatever the reason was that he was laughing about.

“Me ‘n Blade have been together for the better half of ten years,” Sword said, his voice heavy with frustration. “Saw him across the way with his axe in a monster’s skull, and we clicked just like that. He’s a…  special friend, so to speak.”

“I had friends like that once!” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “I’m glad that you’ve both managed to stay afloat even in a wasteland like this; it pays to have some moral support.”

There was a pause before they both burst into peals of laughter, leaning against each other for support. Perhaps it was my tone, or the way I’d said it, or some other third thing that could have been viewed as humorous in their culture, but I was left quite confused once more. Sword took a deep breath and, through a voice cracking with snorts, told me that I was alright in his book. I took the compliment with pride, feeling like I’d finally managed to get somewhere with one of them, no matter how little the gesture.

An hour or so later, I extinguished the fire and got up, Sword and Blade having already fallen asleep on a bedroll under the stars and curled around each other tight. I gave them one last look and a smile as I entered my tent. They seemed to be perfect friends.


End file.
